You Used To Be Mine
by girllybell
Summary: We couldn't be friends because we were too much in love with each other. There was no going back from that kind of love. She knew that. And we both knew the real reason why she turned her back on us. All Human/AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys;) So I just felt like writing a FAX little story and this is what I came up with. I know I haven't been updating my other ****stories but I don't really feel like it and I don't have the inspiration so... Yeah. That may not happen for a while. If you check out my profile you will see some info about my other stories. They are on Hiatus. And while I am not officially putting them up for adoption if you want to adopt one for some crazy reason go check out my profile for more details on that. MOVING ON. This story just came to me while I was reading some FAX fics and I thought I might as well. I am debating leaving this a one-shot but I am thinking about making it a two- or three-shot. I don't know if the other chapters would be in Max or Fang's POV so... Whatever. If you want me to continue it let me know. If not, then... Well then that's fine too. Flames welcome, I want your honest opinion. I don't know if I like this so... Read my lovelies.**

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Fang POV

"Oh. I... didn't know you'd be here." She said looking down at her shoes.

"Umm... Yeah. Sorry, I didn't know I wasn't allowed." I try to catch her eyes but she won't look up quite yet. She probably took my lame attempt at a joke as a spiteful remark or something crazy like that.

I mean, this was _our _place. The place where we spent the weekends studying, where we would hang out after school. The place I first kissed her, in the secluded corner on the right when there was a minute left until closing time and there wasn't a soul left in the cozy coffee shop but the two of us and the manager behind back. Those were my favorite memories of us. The ones where we could be whoever we wanted because in that moment we were on top of the world. There was nothing stopping us from doing anything, but we chose to just stay with each other wishing we could make time stand still. I know now I should have realized just how precious my moments with her were, so I hadn't spent time so wastefully. I should have done something in that moment other than to use it savoring what I had. I wish I had left the savoring for now, and just lived life as it came to me. Because now I wish I had more memories of other things, other places, and less of this wretched coffee shop so I wouldn't have to be regretting them now.

"No, no what are you talking about? Of course you're allowed. I shouldn't have come. It's okay, um, you're fine. I'm just gonna go. I'm really sorry Fang. Really sorry." I had a feeling she wasn't talking about just the awkward encounter anymore. Max left the coffee shop, scurrying out the door in such a rush that she left her half drunk espresso on the counter. I could never understand how she liked it straight black like that. I had never been a fan of coffee, and when she had started taking me here I had always just ordered hot chocolate or when I was feeling that I might as well try to be healthy I ordered some green tea that tasted like watered down rain. Max loved her coffee though, and she always finished every last drop of it. That's how I knew something was wrong.

I wished with all my mind that I could do something about it. I wished that I could just follow her out that door and grab her wrist and demand that she tell me what was bothering her. I wished that I could tell her it was going to be alright, even if I knew it wasn't going to be. I wished more than anything I still had that right. But Max was mine anymore. It wasn't "Max and Fang" anymore. There was just Max, and there was just Fang. Their worlds never touched if they could help it, and when they did it was purely coincidental. It was so much different from what it had been. I didn't want to be just Fang. I wanted Max. I wanted her to tell me that she was out of her mind when she tried to force me that "It's not you, it's me," crap. I wanted her to take back the hopeful "Can we be friends?" that she already knew the answer to. We couldn't be friends because we were too much in love with each other. There was no going back from that kind of love. She knew that. And we both knew the real reason she turned her back on us.

Max was scared. She was scared of commitment, she was scared of trusting someone, and she was scared as hell of her feelings for me. She was a coward, and too proud to admit it. I had almost known this was coming though. It wasn't like she had started distancing herself from me before she ended it though. She had probably refused to even acknowledge her fear before that night. Before any romantic feelings for her surfaced she was my best friend. She knew how to read expressions on my face that was so emotionless not even a muscle twitched. I knew how to see past her mask and the only one that could get her to let her walls down. We were just like that. We knew everything about each other. That's how I had felt this coming. I knew she didn't trust people, and I knew she was afraid of commitment. So part of me wasn't surprised, true. But every single part of me was hurt. I had never been felt emotion like that before. Even when I realized I loved her. She destroyed me and everything I was and had in one conversation. She made me feel. It made me hate her. But also made me love her more.

I picked up her coffee. I drank it as I walked out the door and got into my car. I put the empty cup on my desk when I got to my room. I stared at it when I tried to fall asleep that night. I stared at it when I woke up in the morning. I threw it away when I realized it was just a stupid cup, and that it couldn't help me get over Max.

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**So... How was it? Good, bad, mediocre, let me know in a review. I don't know how I feel about it yet either so no hard feelings. BTW I am not one of those authors who gets mad if you favorite and don't review. Feel free to do whatever. Can someone explain to me why some authors freak about it? I don't get it...**

**If you want me ****to continue this, PM or review and say so! I may do it anyway but I am really just not sure.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so here is the next chapter! Sorry for the wait I had exams to study for but now that school is out I should be writing more stories! **

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"I'm really sorry Fang."

What the hell?

I sigh, and run my hands through my hair and down my face before slapping them down to my sides harshly. "It's four o'clock in the morning Max. You're tired. Just go home. You don't want to be here, and I have nothing to say to you right now." She had to show up in the middle of the night. Just when I'd gotten my life back together, just when I'd finally stopped spending every second of every day obsessing over her and that stupid cup, she shows up at my house in the middle of the freaking night to tell me she's "sorry." God. Why is she doing this to me? I left her alone, just like she asked! I left her to live out her freaking life however she wanted to, even though it killed me and now she decides to talk to me. What the fuck?

My face remains emotionless, but all I want to do is scream. I can't though, because despite everything, I still love her, like the idiot I am, and I won't hurt her like that. And it freaking hurts so bad because she ended it, with so much left unsaid and undone without any regard to me. All because she was afraid. I want to hate her so bad I could spit. I close the door instead.

"Wait. Fang, stop." She puts her hand out and stops the door. I just stare at her hand, the one I've held with mine so many times. The one she used to run through my hair when I kissed her. I can't look away from it, and it's probably the simplest, most mundane thing about her but it has me in a trance. I've seen it a thousand times. I've held it a thousand times. I've kissed it a thousand times. But it's not mine anymore. It's not mine to grab whenever I want or to kiss just to let her know I'm still thinking of her. And now, because of that, because I can't do those things, because now, it's not mine, _she's not mine,_ and it's alien to me. Foreign. Unfamiliar. That thought consumes me, overtakes me until it's the only thing in my mind, echoing back at me from the confines of my brain. She's not mine anymore. I have no hold on her.

But she has a hold on me still, because despite it all I'm still hers. So I stop closing the door, and I stare at her. I'm so tired of this, I'm emotionally drained and all I want is for this crazy game to end. But I'm whipped, and I have been since I met her, so I keep hanging on to any bone she'll throw me like the lovesick puppy I am.

If she were as afraid as I thought she was, she wouldn't be here, so I can only imagine her reasons for coming here. She must need something. I try to tell myself that, but it can't be true because that's not something my Max would do. So I'm desperately clinging onto a glimmer of hope that Max is here because she wants to talk to me.

"Fine. Whatever. Come in. It's cold anyway. The heating in the halls isn't on at night. You shouldn't be out there." I open the door and back up so we won't touch as she brushes past me. It's hard enough talking to her; I don't think I could handle it if I had to touch her.

"So how have you been?" Max offers as she lowers herself onto my worn and tattered old couch. I scoff at her and don't even dignify it an answer as I plop myself down into the chair that matches the couch. She knows better than to try small talk on me.

"Try again." I say, leaning back in my seat. She knows how much I like to make her squirm. She should have been expecting it.

She's quiet for a long time. I study her while she studiously stares and the cracking paint on the wall of my crappy apartment. I try to diffuse a massive headache from coming on by clearing my mind. It's a technique one of my old foster moms used to make me do. My breaths become deeper as Max struggles to find her words and I imagine a wall of blankness and solitude shrouding my mind. I imagine it expanding, overtaking me, and eventually becoming me. I repeat the process twice before Max speaks again.

"I'm not sure why I'm here." She continues staring at the wall, not even glancing at me. Neither of us speak for a few beats. "I went for a walk and I ended up here. I didn't even realize where I was until I was already here. I just needed to talk to you. It all happened so fast I didn't get a chance to explain."

"Explain?" I question her. "What is there to explain?"

She finally looks at me. The confusion in her eyes is obvious. Like she actually doesn't know.

"Oh come on, Max. Don't you dare take me for a fool. You owe me at least that much. We both know why you broke up with me—why you gave up on me. On us. You were afraid. There's nothing more to explain. I got too serious too fast and you weren't ready for that. It's okay Max. Really. I should have seen it coming better. I should've realized you aren't that kind of girl. But I get it now. You'll never be ready for that kind of relationship. That's just not you Max." I let out a deep breath. That's probably the most I've said at one time and it has shocked the both of us. All the help that clearing my mind was has been reversed and I drop my head into my hands. The silence should help but all it does is crush the air out of my lungs and the hope from my heart and my cool demeanor is gone because after everything I still love her.

"I didn't want to hurt you." Her words seem to break her as much as they break the horrible debilitating silence. The universe must think it's hilarious to take the one thing I am most comfortable and use it against me to confirm my worst fears. Her resumed silence tells me what her few words do not. She doesn't love me. She just needs closure. And as much as I want to make it hard on her I can't do that.

"I know." I only pause for a moment so that the silence won't consume me again. "I really do understand Max. You really don't need to worry about me. I'm a big boy. I can handle my best friend ripping my heart out and stomping on it." Okay. So maybe I wouldn't make it a walk in the park for her either. She can take it.

I rethink my previous statement when I see her face crumble and the hurt flash in her eyes. She replaces it with a neutral expression however and nods quickly before sitting up abruptly and walking to the door. She hesitates with her hand on the doorknob for a moment, like she is waiting for something to happen. I wonder for a moment what would happen if I went after her. If I grabbed her hand like she hadn't taken that right away from me months ago. We could make up, and everything would go back to the way it was before. Except it wouldn't. There would always be the well-ignored but well-known thought in both of our minds that if she left me once she could leave me again. If she could ignore me for so long without so much as a call then who is to say she ever loved me? If I could get along fine without her then did we really need each other?

Instead, I just say, "You left your cup at the coffee shop." Translation: I know this is affecting you as much as it is me.

"I know. Thanks for throwing it away," she replies without looking back at you. Translation: I wish it didn't have to be this way.

"No problem." Translation: Me, too.

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**Okay guys what do you think? I personally think it's really short. This will probably be the last chapter, because I think that would be a plausible way for things to end. Should I continue though? Let me know in a review, flames welcome. **


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